Just Carry On
by Autobot Trapjaw
Summary: Rewrite of 'Marshall' ; slightly more in- depth on what happened to Trapjaw. Rated T for slight and brief Energon spilling. For Autobotschic
1. Chapter 1

Just Carry On…

Trapjaw left the Med Bay that day, before her plane took off for her classified mission, feeling unlike herself. She knew why, but she shook it off. Ratchet was the only one besides herself and Ironhide who knew what was bothering her, and that's the way it was going to be as long as she was online. As she made her way down the corridor, she didn't pass a single bot - everyone was prepping, saying their farewells to their spark mates, siblings, friends, and/ or their sparklings, just like they always had in case they didn't return with their troop. Hot Rod and Wil were waiting for her to return so they could do the same.

"I'll be back, Roddy…" she had told her spark mate with a smile before she prepared to board her mode of transport.  
"You always keep that promise – don't let us down today," he replied as he wrapped his arms around her in embrace. Trapjaw hugged Hot Rod back, knowing in her spark that it would be the last time she would feel the warmth of his spark against her own. Once they let go, just as they had always done, they exchanged the letters they had written each other when one departed for a mission. Trapjaw took her letter and sub spaced it before she kissed her beloved mech for the last time.

_They're saying "You've got one more chance to do right" - and it's tonight. "Now go out there and show that you love them before it's too late…"_

"I'll see you when you come back, Mom… Just don't miss your flight back home," Wildfire said, standing slightly taller than his Carrier, but slightly shorter than his Sire. She looked at him with a smile, keeping up her act to pass her lie past them unnoticed.  
"They wouldn't dare leave without me, Wil…" Trapjaw said with a letter for her son, who was still training to fight on the battlefields of the future. Taking his orange servo, she placed the letter in it before hugging him for the final time as well. "I love you, Wil. Never forget that, okay? Promise me you won't forget that I love you – no matter what happens."  
"I won't, Mom… I promise. I'll never forget."  
With that, he gave Trapjaw the letter he wrote to her in case they never met optic to optic again, which Trapjaw knew would be the case. She sub spaced her second letter as well as she left with one final hug to meet her expected ending on the field.

_It's too late for the other side. Caught in a chase, 25 to life… It's too late…_

The troop of Autobots consisted of Trapjaw, Sideswipe, Ratchet, Recon, Lily, Klipsch, and Relapse. There were a few dozen nameless soldiers as well, but Trapjaw had her gaze focused on the four bots in front of her with her letters in her servos. They all had small family circles, but the difference between them and their mission leader was that they didn't necessarily have their last glimpses of their families. Trapjaw looked at the four Autobots in front of her. Klipsch held a photo in his servos - a photo of Bluestreak, his brother – and made a whispered promise to his deceased brother. Lily and Recon were cousins; they were always singing with each other in their communications link, and Recon was Wil's brief mentor at one point. Relapse was naturally muted, but even with his disability, he still proved himself a great warrior to the Autobot army.  
Trapjaw saw the future of her species rested on the shoulders of the Autobots before her as the plane started to land. It was a future that she had every bit of faith that it would be great someday in. At the same time, though, she would never be able to feel the warmth of that greatness and freedom of the future; everything she knew was, and would always be, the darkness and chill of battling the seemingly-endless Decepticon tyranny. It was the sacrifice that so many before her had made – they all gave some, but some gave all to win this war. Trapjaw would be one of those who gave all…

They reached the hill. Megatron decided to play 'King of the Hill' with them, so that left the Autobots with no choice but to charge up the hill and hope to Primus that they didn't shoot worth a slag. For Trap, she just hoped that she didn't make it out of this fight alive – it would be better for the war to take her than her disease. The bleach-like effects of Fracaso had been affecting Trapjaw her whole life, but now it was attacking her processor, which would lead to an inevitable death anyway. She didn't want to leave that way, as a vegetable – she wanted a warrior's death so she could feel the satisfaction of going down while fighting for her family.  
The white femme led the battalion up the hill to fight the last Decepticon squad defending their precious Vibranium metals for their escape ship. As the Autobots fought hard, strong, and true, there was an invisible sniper that snuck his way past Trapjaw's radar. He put his red optic to his rifle's scope, his digit on the trigger. He waited… waited… waited… _click._

_I guess it was never meant to be but it's just something that we have no control over and that's what destiny is, but no more worries, rest your head and go to sleep. Maybe one day we'll wake up and this'll all just be a dream…_

The bullet pierced her in the dead center of her spark, and the Energon didn't hesitate to gush from the bullet hole. The pain was non-existent for a split second until she saw her own fluids on her servos and smeared all over her chest plates. Trapjaw fell to her knees as her spark began to falter as it desperately tried to get Energon to her processor, only causing her death to approach her faster. As Trapjaw rested in the grass on her front, she could make out a faint voice. It got closer and closer before the voice's servos rolled her over and lifted her off of the grassy battlefield floor. Her vision was blurry, even with her visor, but she could just make out the orange optics of Relapse. The large-framed bot picked up his leader, desperately sprinting to Ratchet.  
Ratchet saw Trapjaw's frame in Relapse's arms, sending adrenaline through his veins. As the wounded's carrier got closer and closer, Ratchet was preparing an area out of the line of fire to save his apprentice, his niece, his little TJ; the little cyber-wolf he had raised during the beginning of the Great War.

Hot Rod and Wildfire stood, waiting for the plane to return that night. Trapjaw had kept her promise. She returned home, but the femme had returned in a casket. As Ratchet, Relapse, Recon, and Klipsch carried their fallen leader's casket out of the cargo plane, Hot Rod's optics filled with Energon, and his jaw fell shaking. Wil's optics widened and Trapjaw's only remaining piece of her and her mate's sparks ran towards the metallic box with his Carrier's frame in it. He tried to reach them and prove the truth was really a lie, but before he could, Shadow Stalker grabbed him from behind and pulled him to the ground. With his aunt's arms around him, Wildfire wept as his mom's frame was carried in a closed box past him.

_And when I'm gone, just carry on, don't mourn - rejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice. Just know that I'm looking down on you smiling. I didn't feel a thing, so baby, don't feel any pain, just smile back…_

For Halie,  
From Alexis  
2013


	2. Chapter 2

Just Carry On  
Chapter 2

* * *

**A/N; Ninja School Dropout - look what I found! A second chapter I totally forgot I had! Maybe this could help ya out a bit on 'Encore'...**

* * *

Hot Rod hadn't felt so alone, so lost, so helpless ever in his life. As his beloved's frame was carried past his optics. In his helm, he could hear her voice, he could see her beautiful deep blue optics, and he could feel the warmth of her spark. He was unaware that he had left reality as he listened to Trapjaw's voice.

"I will never cease to love you, Hot Rod... But there is one thing I could never bare to tell you." Hot Rod reached out to his best friend in support.

"I don't care. Tell me now, TJ. No matter what it is, I won't stop loving you."

Trapjaw looked to the ground at her left shamefully. She couldn't bring herself to say it out loud.

"Did you read my letter?"

"... The letter? Not yet, why?" He asked, looking confused. "Why can't you just tell me?"

"I just can't, Hot Rod... I can't bring myself to tell you," she said, looking back at the ground as she did. After a few seconds, she looked over her shoulder as a voice he couldn't detect spoke to her.

"Hot Rod, I have to go."

"No, no you don't, Trapjaw! Stay with me and Shadow and Wil! Please... Don't let go," he replied with tears falling down his faceplates. Trapjaw just smiled sadly at him.

"I won't... but they are calling my name, Hot Rod. They say my time is up, and that I have to return, babe. I wish I could come back, but you and I are both needed by one of our kids..." she spoke before giving Hot Rod one last kiss. "Go... Wildfire needs you, and Aurora needs me. I will always love you, no matter what, Hot Rod."

Trapjaw let go of his servos and turned behind her as she began walking away into the light that so many had passed through, and many more would pass through as well.

"Trapjaw, no!" Hot Rod yelled, reaching for her as she reached the light. As he did, he watched as she walked into it, and she suddenly disappeared. The air seemed to whisper one last thing. It was her voice.

'The letters... Don't forget the letters...'

* * *

"Go again! Intensify the volts to 50,000!" Ratchet yelled as he rubbed the chest paddles together. First Aid had done as instructed and nodded to Ratchet. The CMO put the chest paddles on Hot Rod's chest plates in attempt to jump-start his spark.

"CLEAR!" Ratchet yelled, zapping Hot Rod in attempt to save his life. Wil stood, wrapped in Shadow's arms, watching for any sign of life from his Sire.

With that final zap, Hot Rod's spark resumed pumping as if there hadn't been a disturbance at all. Unfortunately, he hadn't come to consciousness at the time. Ratchet checked for a spark beat to see if that jolt of electricity had done it.

'Thump, thump, thump...' was what his audio receptor was picking up.

"We did it, Hot Rod's back online. Get him to the Med Bay now!" The medic ordered as he stood by his head to lift him by his shoulders. First Aid and Optimus assisted him and carried Hot Rod inside.

* * *

"Hot Rod... can you hear me, Hot Rod?"

For some reason, someone was playing with his optic shutter and trying to blind him with an accursed flashlight. He also felt a pair in his helm, but the only response he could muster any energy for was to moan slightly.

"I'll take that as a yes, then..." Ratchet said, his voice becoming more identifiable as Hot Rod's head cleared some.

"T-Trapjaw..." He managed to squeak out in a weak voice. At her name, Ratchet froze for a moment before turning off the flashlight and putting it aside.

"Hot Rod... Trapjaw died yesterday afternoon... I'm sorry. Relapse saw her go down and rushed over with her to me, but it was a shot placed too accurately for me to fix the trauma it caused." Hot Rod's only reaction was a deep intake of air as he bit his lower lip and closed his optics again. As he rested on his berth, he exhaled heavily and tried not to cry.

"I am truly sorry, Hot Rod..." the medic said, placing his servo on his chest plates. The now-widowed mech just remained on the berth with a small pool of Energon that had developed beside his helm from his optics. Ratchet could see the mech just wanted to be alone for a while, so he grabbed a few things and headed to the morgue. He needed to carry out Trapjaw's wishes upon her death.

* * *

Hot Rod knew how much Trapjaw loved music, so when they spark bonded, he made sure that her favorite song played the most often. He remembered the very look on her face when he had Jazz play that Maroon 5 song. How she danced with him no matter where they were when it played. Hot Rod recalled everything that day perfectly, but now it almost felt like it had all been stolen from him - all his happiness and joy that he found because of Trapjaw in his life - it just vanished with his beloved femme.

"I don't mind spending every day... out on the corner in the pouring rain..." He sang to himself in a weak voice as he felt the Energon slide down his faceplates slowly. Without Trapjaw, Hot Rod almost didn't want to go on with his life. Then he remembered what she had said: 'Don't forget the letter...'

Hot Rod looked at his chest. He remembered that he had sub spaced his letter from Trapjaw, but with so much going on, he didn't get a chance to read it. Opening his subspace, the mech reached for the envelope with the letter. As it had always been in the past, this envelope had been sealed with a blue T sticker, and it had his name on the front. Carefully and nervously, Hot Rod peeled the sticker off the back. The back flap sprung open to reveal a folded piece of light blue paper. His hands shook as he freed the paper from the envelope.

_Hot Rod, _

_This will be the last letter I will ever have to write to you. I could never bear to tell you the truth in person, and for that, I have died a coward's death. When I was born, Ratchet informed my Sire of the rare condition I had the unpleasant privilege of having. It's something called Fracaso. It was, and still is, extremely uncommon, but it is similar to what humans call being albino. It washes everything out of your genetics, starting with one's frame color and ending with destroying one's processor. I didn't want to become a problem for anyone, especially you, which is why I took the mission. I made it a suicide mission so I wouldn't become your wife, the vegetable._

_I'm sorry I never told you about my condition. I could never bring myself to only because I was scared of what you would do if I did. I only wanted us to be normal like everyone else instead of having to basically live on medication and in the med bay my whole life. I only wanted to hide my fear._

_I will always love you, and I only hope you can forgive me for leaving you and Wil like a simple coward, Hot Rod. I'm contrite for what I've done._

_Trapjaw_

Hot Rod read the letter through once. There was nothing he could do to hold back the tears. He read through it again, only a few lines the second time through, though.

_I could never bear to tell you the truth in person, and for that, I have died a coward's death._

"… You were anything but a coward, Trapjaw… I just wish you could have told me…."


End file.
